


Over His Head

by PiscesPenName



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Submissive Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-26
Updated: 2017-05-26
Packaged: 2018-11-05 06:38:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11008017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PiscesPenName/pseuds/PiscesPenName
Summary: Lonely, a little tipsy, Dean Winchester picks up a girl at a bar that reminds him of Cassie. She's a little more dommy than he had in mind.





	Over His Head

 

Dean sat on the bed with a sloppy smile. He was drunk, not wasted, but enough to be feeling loosely relaxed. The girl he was with--Kathy, Kelly, Kate? did it matter really?--Using the bathroom to do whatever it was chicks felt they needed to do to prepare for a night with him.

He blinked kind of tiredly and flopped back onto the bed, the softness feeling so nice against his back. Her comforter was thick and soft and underneath he could see the sheen of grey satin sheets peeking out.

 _Oh God,_ nothing felt as good as satin on his skin. This bed felt pretty fucking good and she needed to come out soon or he was going to fall asleep on it.

The door swung open and she walked out, wearing a long black slip with a slit up the side of her leg. Her Cafe Au Lait skin reminded him a little of Cassie's. He blinked and sat up, still feeling loose and disheveled but pretty interested.

She sauntered over to him with a confident sway of her hips, put her hands on his knees and pushed them apart.

Dean smirked and let her stand between them. He tilted his head to look up at her, all big green eyes and dark lashes.

She leaned down. "What kind of lover are you, Dean?"

He put his hands on her hips. "Whatever kind you need me to be, baby."

She raised an eyebrow. "Oh really?"

A bit of mischief lit his eyes. "Yes."

"Do you want to play a game?" He slid his hands up her curves reveling in the feel of the black satin on his palms. "What kind of game?"

"The kind where I have control." She tangled a hand in his hair and pulled his head back to expose his throat. She bent down and kissed his lips firmly.

Dean's eyes went wide for a moment, but then he went with it, opening his mouth under her and letting her slide her tongue over the back of his teeth. He groaned low and deep. She didn't break contact, kept the kiss going until his urgency built and his neck started to ache a little.

She broke away and he sat panting, her standing above him, statuesque and beautiful, looking down to study his expression.

"Seems like a fun game," he whispered.

"Stand up." She backed off and Dean did as he was told.

" Come here."

He took a step over to her, held his hands out to the side and up, open palmed in a dramatic gesture of surrender. She put her hands on his shoulders and slid the blue button-up off his arms. She put her hands on his hips. "Turn around."

Dean turned, feeling his heart speed up. He felt her push him toward the wall. He let her, catching himself with his hands on the smooth surface.

His palms were beginning to sweat and they slid a little against the cold wallpaper as she pressed herself against him from behind. He moaned, feeling her breasts against his shoulder blades through his T-shirt. She snaked her hands around front, slid them under the grey cotton tee and put them on his pecs.

Dean felt her thumb tease his nipples and he leaned his forehead against the wall. He started to turn and he felt her gentle restraining push. She placed her mouth next to his ear lobe. "Is this okay?"

He scraped his fingers against the wall. "Uh huh."

She kept on rubbing his chest, her own pressed against him, her hips pressed against his ass. The whole thing felt really good. Her palms traced down his stomach as he felt her tongue dart into his ear.

Her curly hair tickled the side of his face as she moved and he closed his eyes, finding he could almost picture Cassie if he did. Her long fingers danced around the waistband of his faded jeans, teasing under it and then back up and over his hip bone. "Tell me what you want, Dean."

"You," Dean replied, his voice a little hoarse.

"Good." Her hands moved to his belt and she started to unhook the black leather from behind.

Dean let his gaze slide downwards so he could watch her elegant fingers working to open his jeans. The visual was unbelievably hot. She got his pants loosened and popped the top button. Dean shifted a little, still watching as one of her hands lifted his T-shirt out of the way, exposing his taut belly and the other unzipped him.

She slid them around his back and gently rubbed under his shirt, tracing her fingers lightly along the divot of his spine. She followed it until it turned into the elegant curve of his ass. She stopped at the waistband and waited.

"Do you want me to undress you, Dean?"

"Oh God," he whispered. "Yes."

She slid his pants down with a gentle tug and they pooled around his ankles.

He shifted a moment and stilled as she ran her hands over the backs of his thighs. She put her hands on the cheeks of his ass over the fabric of his cotton boxer briefs and Dean drew in a breath.

She gave a squeeze. "You like that?"

"Yeah," he whispered. He started to turn to face her, eager to sweep her up into his arms and crush her to him, but she stilled him again.

This time pressing her body unexpectedly against his back with a "No no."

Her weight crushed him into the wall. He ended up with his cheek against the cool smooth surface. "Stay there."

"Let me see you, sweetheart. I wanna look at you." He said, his voice a smoky baritone.

"Not yet. Good things come to those who wait." She put her hands on his ass again and Dean's muscles tightened involuntary at the touch.

She moved her hands down and teased her fingers under the fitted legs of his underwear.

Dean jerked a little. "Tickles." He said with a grimace.

"Go with it," she said.

He kept his jaw tight. His breath caught as she kept going. "Nope." He moved his thigh away and reached to block her touch. "That's too ticklish, babe."

She took her hand out, Dean heard her kneel down behind him. His heart sped up. "You know why it's ticklish, don't you?"

He cocked an eyebrow "Because it tickles?"

"Because you're sensitive there and you aren't used to being touched on your legs, so the stimulation feels like too much. But if you ride it out and get used to it, it will be one of your erogenous zones." Her hands went to the back of his thighs.

He tensed and let out a muffled hmpfff. "Well right now it's a boner killer."

She pressed her palms firmly into the muscle there. "This too?"

"N..no," he said. "That feels kinda nice."

"Good." She stroked up and down the definition of his legs, pausing on the back of his knees to press a kiss there.

Dean shivered and put his hands to the wall to support himself. This entire experience felt weird. In a good way, but he wasn't certain what to feel. Her behind him, pressing on him, exploring him was a definite turn on, but at the same time he felt weirdly vulnerable.

That doubled as she forcibly spread his legs apart and her face was suddenly nuzzling the back of his inner thigh. His breath stuttered and he groaned, almost feeling like his legs wanted to give out on him. She kissed him, licked--gently bit. His breath sped up until he was panting. He wanted to grind against her. It was almost getting unbearable. "Honey, please..."

"Please what?" She asked, her breath on his legs.

He laughed. "You wanna take a little pity on a guy?" She reached around and palmed him through his boxer-briefs.

"Like this?"

Dean gasped and rolled his hips into her touch. "Yeah." _Oh god, it felt good._ The friction. The pressing into him, rubbing. He almost wondered if he was going to come from a hand job when she removed it and he groaned. "That wasn't pity."

She stood up behind him and turned him around.

Dean turned and was on her, kissing with force, his hands everywhere. He stepped forward and almost tripped on his own damn pants. His tongue was in her mouth, parting her lips under him. He crushed her to him, urging her toward the bed. Her knees hit the back of it and Dean pushed her over onto it, was on top of her, kicking off his boots and stepping out of his jeans while kissing the gorgeous mocha skin of her neck.

It was like with Cassie, watching the contrast of their skin tones--his pale bicep against her darker skin.

Dean put a knee between her long legs and worked them open, and suddenly he felt resistance.

"Not yet." She said. "I'm not done with you yet."

He halted, pulled his head up, panting. "What?"

"I'm not done with this body, Dean." She smiled wickedly, her full lips curving upward. She seemed fairly collected for as hot and heavy as he'd just been with her. This was definitely heading into one of the most confusing hook ups he'd ever had. "I..." he stood leaning over her, his feet on the floor, his torso on the bed. "What do you want to do? The foreplay was awesome." He rolled his hip into her. "Was hoping for the main event."

"You said you'd be whatever I need, right?"

"Yeah."

"Lie down for me, Dean."

He stood up and rubbed a hand over his face. This was quickly turning from fun into frustrating. "C...ca.." he stumbled over the word. _Goddamn he wished he remembered her name._

"Carly," she supplied. "Carly," he said, grateful. "I..." he took a deep breath.

Her brow furrowed. "Are you not having fun?" She looked crushed.

Dean was aware of the sweat starting to slick his back and stick the cotton t-shirt to his skin. "No." He touched her pretty face. "Honey, I'm just. God you're so freaking hot and I just want to..."he dropped his voice, "be inside you."

She took his wrists, bit her lip flirtatiously. Suddenly, girlish and a little shy, like the chick he'd picked up that night at the bar instead of this sex mistress she'd seemed to have turned into. Not that he minded at all, he was just _jonesing_ for it. Teased and amped up. He could sense her disappointment at having her toy taken away. He felt badly.

Dean had always been a generous lover--he enjoyed making his partner feel good. If she wasn't happy, he honestly wasn't happy himself. "Okay," she said, still looking a little hurt. He felt his erection flag. "No. I...can't with you looking like that. I mean are we not on the same page here?" He asked, cocking an eyebrow. "Maybe I'm getting the wrong signals?"

"I'm sorry," she said. "I was having so much fun I forgot what you need."

"Hey I don't NEED anything if you want to quit, honey. I'll have blue balls for a week but I'll live." He smiled disarmingly.

"I don't want to quit, Dean." She looked up at him with her big hazel eyes under black lashes.

He went weak-kneed.

"What do you need from me then, baby?"

She approached, still playfully flirtatious. "Can I tie you up?"

He grinned back and cocked his head. "If you ask real nice like that how can I refuse?"

She kissed him gently, her arms around his neck. He inhaled the scent of her thick curly hair. "Lie on the bed for me." She said softly into his ear.

Dean smirked. "Yes m'am."

He flopped himself backwards with boyish enthusiasm, feeling a bit of relief now that he had clarified what was going on.

"Take off your shirt."

He pulled it over his head and threw it across the room, settled back down, watching her from under his lashes.

She took a scarf and wrapped it around one of his wrists. Dean eyed her curiously. She tied the other one to the first and put his hands over his head. Dean tested the strength. They were taut, but he was certain he could get out of them in a matter of seconds if he really had to. She took another scarf and secured it to the headboard then looped it around his bonds.

Dean raised an eyebrow. "You really don't want me moving, do you?"

She leaned forward and planted a gentle kiss on his temple. "Do you know what turns me on?"

"Bondage." He said through a flirtatious smile.

"But why?" He stayed quiet.

She sat up on her knees and surveyed him stretched out before her like an offering.

"Tell me." His voice was smoky.

"I want you helpless." She put her hand on his belly. He jumped a little under her touch. "I want to watch your pleasure. I want to worship your body and make you ride it out even if it's so good it verges on pain."

He swallowed hard as she hooked her hands under the waist band of his boxer briefs and slowly dragged them off down his thighs, down his legs and tossed them aside. She began to touch his shoulders, leaning over him, her thick hair brushing his neck. Dean nuzzled it a little. She descended on him and her mouth found the juncture of his jaw just under his ear.

Dean hummed his approval and closed his eyes.

She kissed and moved down the tendon, nipping gently, her hands stroking the white skin of his exposed arms.

"You're so handsome," she purred. She ran her hands down over his sides and he jerked against the restraints. For all the sex he'd had, Carly was finding spots on his body that hadn't really been explored. It briefly occurred to him that maybe that was one drawback of having one night stands with no true intimacy. Maybe there needed to be a certain amount of knowing someone well before they felt comfortable enough to explore him.

The thought dissolved quickly as her tongue ran along his collarbone.

He tilted his neck back to give her access. She kissed down over his pectoral muscle, closed her mouth over a nipple.

His breath stuttered as she flicked it with her tongue and closed her teeth gently around it. His body arched up a little bit. She kept at it for a few moments until his heart was pounding in his chest and the sensation shot down into his balls. He wanted to wrap his fingers in her hair. He tugged on the bonds, feeling a little frustrated. She kept up and the sensations went through him again, he tensed his jaw. "Oh god. Honey, touch me. Please."

He moved his hips up to emphasize his point.

She put a hand on his hip and pushed him back down then kissed over the taut muscle of his stomach. He tipped his head back and screwed his eyes shut, praying she would go lower and take him in her mouth. She didn't, she lifted her head up and coaxed his legs apart with her hands on the inside of his thighs. He resisted at first and then let them open a little. Her hand ran over his knees and the front of his thighs.

He wasn't quite sure what to think. He jumped a little, still unused to the touch. Most women didn't play with his legs. That was usually his job.

She massaged his calves for a moment, digging her fingers into the muscle. "These bowlegs are very sexy, Dean."

He grunted. "They're sore." He said. "Didn't realize it until you started diggin in."

She pressed a kiss to the inside of his upper calf. He stilled, focusing on the foreign sensation of soft and wet against the skin there. "Has anyone kissed your legs before?" She asked.

"I'm not too sure they have," he replied, squirming a little. She moved to the inside of his knee.

He winced. "Okay, it's too sensitive."

She moved up farther to his thigh. Dean groaned and pulled on his bonds again, tried to close his legs a little. Her hand snaked up to his balls and he cried out. She teased him gently with her palm and fingers and he started to jerk, muscles spasming, the need for release growing to a fever point. Finally her hand went to his dick and Dean made a less than manly cry pulling tight against the scarves, his biceps bulging with the effort.

They were starting to frustrate him a little.

Her hand explored his length and went back down to his testicles, ghosting against the soft skin there. Dean moved under her touch, instinctively rocking his hips up into her hand. "Carly. I need you."

She took him more firmly. He bucked up into her, feeling the slide of the satin sheets under his ass. His face flushed. "Please."

She kept moving her hands on him, never in one spot long enough for him to find a release.

His jaw was so tight his teeth were beginning to ache. His body tense. She was pushing him over the edge into too much sensation with the pleasure was quickly crossing the threshold into pain. "Carly, you gotta get me off." He panted.

She kept up her teasing, creeping to the sensitive spot just behind his testicles. She pressed gently in. He cried out trying to twist his wrists out of the scarf. Her finger moved rhythmically against him, his body coiled tighter, tighter. He started to sweat and his face looked pained. "Get me off, please." He whimpered.

She stayed where she was, one hand on his perineum, the other on the front of a thigh. Dean would pant and then stop breathing altogether and tense against her touch, then he'd breathe again. He writhed underneath her and finally rolled sideways to escape the sensation. The scarf twisted with his movement. He stayed on his side, for a moment to catch his breath.

She touched his hip and he flinched, completely over stimulated.

"Don't." He tugged on the scarves and they held tight. For just a moment there was a surge of panic where he wasn't sure he could get out or not, but then he was able to bend his wrist and wriggle-free. Carly sat back and let him up, watching him through big hazel eyes. He met her gaze, still breathing irregularly.

"Can I?" He asked.

She barely had time to nod her consent before Dean crushed himself up against her, rolling her under him and pressing her into the bed. He had to restrain himself, rein in his own strength. She was small under him, fragile. He knelt between her legs and sank in deeply with the first thrust. She whimpered underneath him and he pressed her down with his weight, rocking none too gently into her.

He didn't have any technique to it, too frustrated and pent-up to care. He closed his eyes against the sensation, his nose in her hair, and for a minute she was Cassie. _Cassie._..and he was young and naïve and _Dean_. Just Dean.

He groaned and came hard, the force of his release making his voice catch on an almost sob and his weight settled further on her.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. When he'd gotten his breathing under control, he nuzzled her with his nose. "What do you need, baby?" His hand went between them.

"Tell me, I'll do it." His voice was smoky whiskey gravel.

He slid his finger down across the warm wetness of her and gently rubbed, feeling her arch under him. He tried to keep himself from slipping out of her even though he could feel himself softening. "Come on sweetheart," he purred, giving his hand a little twist that had her gasping. The arm he'd been leaning on started to shake but he'd be damned if he was going to move off it until she was happy.

He added another finger and kept his stroking rhythmic, then sped up his ministrations.

Her thighs tightened on him. "Come on, beautiful." He felt himself respond to her desperation. Some psychological pleasure at watching the beautiful face tense as if in pain before she started to move against him. He felt himself slip out of her as she writhed, ignored it and kept up his teasing. "Yes, baby. Let it happen."

And there she was, crying out, her fingers digging painfully into his back, her thighs squeezing against his sides. He gratefully removed his fingers and leaned on that arm to give the other a break, watched her expressions as she came down off her high.

Satisfied, he rolled off of her and collapsed into a boneless heap on the bed. Cassie still in his thoughts.


End file.
